Season One, Episode Two: Secrets
by AngelHoffman
Summary: As Angel Hoffman begins work for Dr. House, secrets from her past start to emerge. Things heat up between Angel, Wilson and House.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Angel Hoffman finished preparing for her celebratory date with James Wilson. She'd gotten the job as Dr. Gregory House's assistant for the Department of Diagnostic Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Wilson had told her casual Italian, but she chose the champagne silk blouse anyway with slacks. She bit her lip, looking in the mirror and decided hair up, and dabbed a bit of the Caramel perfume on her pulse points. By the time she walked out to the curb, he was there, waiting.

"Hello, Ms. Assistant to Dr. House," Wilson teased as he helped her into the Volvo. "You look lovely."

"Thank you, you're quite the looker yourself," Angel replied, smiling, and gently touching his hand.

As they stepped into the restaurant, Angel liked the warm, homey feel to it. They talked a bit more about opera, her future co-workers, and the loft Wilson and House were moving into this weekend. At some point, Wilson's hand was covering hers. She blushed a bit, but thought how relaxed it made her feel.

Towards the end of the meal, she noticed a jukebox in the back of the room and a smile flitted across her face. Wilson knit his eyebrows together—that smile reminded him way too much of House when he was up to no good. "What are you smiling at?" He asked warily, though not without a smile of his own.

"Oh I just noticed the jukebox back there and wondered if they had my favorite song on it," she replied, and began to hum a song not unfamiliar, but not well-liked, to Wilson.

He closed his eyes and quietly hissed "House!" Then he looked at Angel and asked "He told you didn't he?" Her smile turned into a full-faced grin. "You wouldn't dare."

Angel reached into her purse and drew out a quarter. "You have no idea what I will or won't dare," she purred. Now it was Wilson who was blushing. Angel stood and began walking slowly towards the back of the restaurant, swaying her hips as Wilson momentarily forgot about the song. She looked over her shoulder with a sexy smile, gently batting her eyelashes.

In a flash, Wilson was beside her, then in front of her. "Oh ho, I don't think so," he said, a bit flustered but feeling a jolt of electricity from this little game of hers.

"I see it right there, E12," she said, looking over his shoulder just a bit. When he turned to see for himself, Angel slipped between Wilson and the jukebox. He caught her hand with the quarter gently, and shook his head. "And just what are you going to do to stop me?" She asked playfully with a laugh.

They looked in each others' eyes, daring one another to make the first move. That laugh….before he could stop himself, Wilson used his other hand to gently stroke her neck. He then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close to him. He bent his head down and kissed her, lightly. Angel dropped the quarter, which clinked on the floor and rolled away. She wrapped her arm around Wilson's waist and leaned her body into his. Soon she was backed against the jukebox and inadvertently hit a button; Norah Jones' cover of _Love Me Tender_ came on. The two barely heard it as they continued to kiss.

Their reverie was broken only when one of the wait staff cleared her throat loudly. Wilson and Angel broke apart, both pink-cheeked with embarrassment and passion. "Um, I think we better take this somewhere else," Wilson said as they walked quickly back to their table. Both tried to stifle giggles.

"How about my place?" Angel suggested while Wilson quickly paid the bill. Wilson nodded as he took her hand and they walked out. The minute they were out the door, they both broke out laughing. "Best use of a quarter, ever," Angel said, glancing over at Wilson.

The apartment was chilly when they got home. Angel looked a bit embarrassed as she turned the heat up, blaming it on forgetfulness. She offered Wilson some hot tea, which he readily accepted. Soon they were on her couch, her bare feet tucked under her, sipping the hot drink which soon stopped her shivers.

"I'm so sorry again about the apartment being so cold," Angel said with a tiny laugh. "I turned it down earlier and didn't think about it." Wilson pulled her to him, and grabbed a blanket, covering them both.

"Better?" Wilson said, his warm breath in her ear; she felt goosebumps along her arms.

"Much," Angel replied, setting her teacup down.

She turned her head and began to kiss along his jaw line. Wilson closed his eyes and sighed. His lips found hers, kissing more urgently now that they had privacy. His tongue parted their lips, finding hers, and she let out a soft moan. She pivoted her body, wrapping her arms around his neck, tenderly rubbing it with her fingertips. His mouth moved to the hollow of her neck near the collarbone; Angel arched her head back, whispering "James, mmm."

Wilson began to lay her back on the couch when they both nearly fell off. They had a fit of giggles as Angel said "I told you it was a lousy couch. Perhaps we should move to the bedroom?" Every nerve in her was tingling, her hands shaking.

He stood, held out his hand. "Lead the way, beautiful." Shyly, she did so, gently grasping his hand. She sat on the bed, turned on the small lamp by the bedside. Wilson took off his jacket, draped it over a chair in the corner. He walked over to her, gently brushing her cheeks with his thumbs, and then carefully unpinned her hair so it cascaded over her shoulders. She shivered again. This was hardly her first time but Wilson was above and beyond so very different from the men she was used to.

Sitting next to her, Wilson took her in his arms, feeling the silk of her blouse against his hands, feeling her tremble, knowing without asking that it wasn't the cold. This time she kissed him harder, lightly running her fingers through his hair, and slowly down his back. She began to kiss his neck, undoing his tie and tossing it to join the coat. They both began to unbutton each other's shirts. Wilson ran his fingertips over Angel's bare skin, nearly soft as the silk, until he got to her breasts.

Wilson cupped one silk-covered breast in his hand; Angel moaned and traced her fingers along his bare chest. She began to gently kiss his earlobe as his other hand caressed her other breast. His mouth left a trail of kisses down her cleavage; Angel thought she would forget to breathe. No one had ever touched her like this before with such gentleness and passion. He looked into her eyes. For a moment he thought he saw a trace of fear and hesitated. Angel smiled and guided his hands to her back. With a flick of his fingers, the bra fell from her body to join the rest of the quickly strewn clothing.

Where his hands had been, Wilson moved his mouth to her breasts. Angel, lying on the bed, arched her back, pulling him on top of her. His lips and tongue feathered each nipple; he groaned at their hardness in his mouth. Her hands wandered downward, unhooking his belt and pants. Wilson kicked the pants off, not wanting to take away his attention from her breasts.

He looked up at her and smiled, kissing her gently on the mouth. "You are incredible," he sighed. She blushed all the way down to her breasts; he smiled at the sight. "And, I might add, sexy as hell."

"I'm feeling a bit overdressed James," Angel murmured coyly. He helped remedy that by removing her pants, leaving only her lace bikini. Wilson's smile turned to a grin. "I take it you like the view?"

"Oh very much," Wilson replied, and began kissing her stomach, stopping just at the hem of the panties. Angel moaned and reached down with her hands to touch his shoulders. He quickly shed his boxers and she smiled, blushed, and looked away, a bit shy. Wilson climbed back into the bed, on top of her. She could tell just how much he was enjoying this. As they embraced and continued kissing, Angel couldn't help arching her hips to meet his. She could feel how hard he was against her, responding to her body's movement and heat.

"James …." Angel whispered. "I want you, please…."

Wilson ran his hand down her belly and one thigh, moving his hand back up to tease off her bikini. Angel whimpered as his fingers strayed so very close, and then shuddered as he drew his hand inside her thigh. He enjoyed how she was responding to his touch. She felt like she was on fire. If Wilson thought about trying to draw this lovemaking out any longer, feeling her and hearing her beg erased that notion.

"Angel, I want you too, I want to love you…." Wilson quickly put on a condom and pressed his body to hers. He looked at her, to make sure she was ok with this, thinking about her attack the other night. She looked at him with her large blue eyes, totally trusting and filled with wanting him. Her body melted into his, she could feel his heart pounding against her breasts. Despite the growing ache, she wished this moment could last forever.

He kissed her and slowly their hips rocked against each other. She let out a tiny gasp when he entered her, and wrapped her arms around him tighter. Between their kissing and caresses, they whispered words of love to each other. When she climaxed, she cried out his name, shuddering, and kissing him. The look on her face was pure joy and Wilson took that view in but for a moment. His climax had him moaning her name in her ear, and he lay there, after, kissing her, breathing hard. When he began to kiss her cheek, he found tears, and was alarmed.

"Are you ok? Did I…?" She smiled, and kissed him to silence any more talking. They rolled to their sides, and she buried her face into his chest, still panting, the heat radiating off their bodies.

"I….I've never felt this way before. You were amazing James," she blushed, embarrassed at her tears.

He gently cupped one cheek with his hand, using a thumb to wipe away her tears. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm just glad I could make you feel that way," Wilson said gently, kissing her forehead.

Wilson stroked her arm, gazing at the tattoo on her shoulder. "What does it mean?" Her eyes lowered for a moment, and she took a deep breath before answering.

"Strength. It's Japanese. Not a turn-off I hope?" Wilson smiled.

"Not at all. Didn't it hurt?" Wilson brushed his lips over the Japanese Kanji and flowers, finding it very exotic.

"No, not really. It was…..empowering actually." She didn't dare tell him what it really meant or why she got it. She pushed the thoughts out of her head and nestled closer to him.

The two lay, legs intertwined, while he ran his fingers through her hair. She nuzzled against his neck and kissed his chest. Angel grew so quiet, Wilson was sure she had fallen asleep. His mind started racing with thoughts…_what would House say? How do I feel about Angel now?_ He tried to push away a growing guilt that this meant far more to Angel….._ I never want to hurt her_. But no one could replace Amber…and he wasn't sure he was ready for any kind of commitment beyond casual dating.

"James are you still awake?" He nearly jumped at the suddenness of her voice.

"Yes," he tried to push away his guilt by kissing the top of her head.

"Will you be here in the morning when I wake up?" He could hear a hint of sadness. He cringed.

"We're….moving into the loft tomorrow, and I need to get an early start because God knows House won't. But…I'll make sure to wake you before I leave." He tried to fool himself that this was a reasonable compromise.

"Call me this weekend?" She could hear the hesitation in his voice; her heart fell.

"Of course," Wilson replied. "Goodnight, Angel."

"Goodnight James," Angel answered sleepily. She waited a few minutes until she could hear him breathing slowly and heavy. Barely she whispered, "I love you."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

Wilson arrived at the loft, still feeling guilty, and tired. The movers hadn't arrived yet. He entered, set down the coffee and donuts that he'd grabbed on the way over. The sight of House sitting in a folding chair, facing the door, made him nearly jump out of his skin. "Jeez! House…What are you doing here so early?" He tried his best not to let his emotions show on his face. But this was House—nothing got past him.

"Where were you last night? You didn't come home. Come to think of it, you didn't come home the other night either. Care to fess up now, or do we get to play 20 questions?" The look in Houses' eyes told Wilson he already knew. But it was too early to be mocked by House, so Wilson chose the irritable route.

"Do I always hound you where you are? I brought coffee and donuts," Wilson tried, unsuccessfully, to distract House with food.

"Yes, you do. So who is she? A patient? A nurse? Or maybe, I don't know, my new assistant?" House's grin was not completely filled with glee. But the way Wilson rubbed the back of his neck then through his hair told him everything he knew. House groaned. "Aw, Wilson, Angel? Really? Did you sleep with her?"

Wilson sighed. "House as much as you would like to humiliate me, I would like to afford Angel some degree of privacy. Since, as you say, she is your new assistant. So can we please drop the subject?"

House rolled his eyes. "Wilson, as well you know, none of my employees have privacy as far as I'm concerned. But I'll let it go for now if you answer one thing for me."

Wilson hated keeping things from House, so he answered wearily, "What."

House's face became serious. "How did she get those bruises on her arm and the scratches on her face? That wasn't from a fall." He stared at Wilson, and felt uneasy when a look of worry crossed his friend's face.

"She….was walking home from PPTH Monday night. Two guys attacked her at the edge of the parking lot. They….beat her with her own cane." House frowned, fingering his own cane against his leg. "A car drove by and they ran off. She called me from her place; I patched her up, and stayed the night."

"Did she call the police? Why didn't she come in to get checked out?" House asked quietly.

"No. She was terrified of coming in, didn't want anyone to know what had happened. Please don't tell her I told you…." House nodded and waved it off.

House thought for a minute, eyes halfway closed. "Interesting."

Angel dozed off after Wilson left. It was a bittersweet goodbye. It felt lovely to wake up with Wilson wrapped around her. How many times had her relationships started like this only to end…well, badly? _Worse than badly_, she thought. And she knew in her heart he would never act like that. She was baffled that such a man existed and he wanted to be with her. She was feeling happier than she had in a long time.

But after he left, she shed a few tears. She knew from the look in his eyes, the things he said—or rather didn't—she knew he wasn't in love with her. She knew men would say one thing in bed and quite another in the morning. If they were even there when she woke up. _Maybe though_, she thought, _maybe James will be different_.

She was having a pleasant dream when the cold woke her. Angel grabbed a robe and went to glare at the thermostat. In an instant, she felt sick. It should be on. She reached over to her desk, hands shaking more from nerves. Angel had been in such a hurry to get ready for their date she hadn't bothered going through the mail. She held her breath as she quickly thumbed through it.

When she saw the envelope she hoped would not be there, she closed her eyes for a minute before opening and reading the contents. "Shit!" Well at least she knew why the heat wasn't on. Angel sank into a chair at the kitchen table, gazed numbly at the sparse groceries on the shelves. And rent was due soon.

Her thoughts of Wilson were quickly replaced by reality. She couldn't afford a fairy-tale romance right now. Angel had to focus on her job with House, and doing it well. Her first paycheck would come and make things a little better. The hospital insurance would make things better still. And after some time, the hospital would cover her medication too. She just had to figure how to juggle everything without crashing again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Angel arrived early on Monday morning to make sure she got in before the team and more importantly, House. She started a pot of coffee, and set out a batch of muffins she'd made. She went into House's office to check out her desk—right next to his. She slipped a small photo into the top drawer after gently fingering the frame and smiling. Then she went back out, made herself a cup of tea, and waited.

Drs. Robert Chase and Remy Hadley were the first to arrive. She noticed the look they shared with each other. _Must be a couple_, she thought. They looked a bit surprised to see her at the table. "Um, hello, can we help you?" Angel adored his Aussie accent.

"I'm Angel Hoffman, House's new assistant. We met briefly the other day, "she replied, shaking their hands, noting Hadley's beautiful green eyes as she smiled. "I made muffins."

"Any strawberries? I'm allergic," Chase wondered.

"Nope, and I'll remember that for the future. Do you always carry your epipen?" Angel gently nagged.

"Yes, I do. You sound like you know a bit about food allergies," Chase said, grabbing a muffin and a cup of coffee.

Angel bit her lip a moment. "I knew someone. Dairy allergies. Glad you take it seriously. I'm sure as a doctor you know how many don't."

"These are great, way better than the cafeteria," Hadley remarked. Angel smiled.

"Hey you better have left some for us," said Dr. Chris Taub as he and Dr. Eric Foreman entered the room.

"I made plenty. Just my way of saying hello," Angel shook hands with Taub, noticing his eyes darting towards her cleavage. She blushed but felt a bit flattered, even if he was older.

Dr. Foreman gave her a nod, but didn't say much as he looked through some files. "House is late again? Why am I not surprised."

"Could I get you some coffee, Dr. Foreman?" she asked quietly. He looked up at her, his face softened and he smiled.

"That would be great, thank you Ms. Hoffman," Foreman replied.

"Oh please just call me Angel," she said. Her smile seemed to set everyone at ease, not the usual atmosphere in the conference room.

The mood changed suddenly when House walked through the door. "Did I miss my invitation to the tea party? You all can charm Ms. Hoffman on her own time. She's got work to do now." Angel quickly stood, feeling a bit knot in her stomach.

"Follow me." Angel saw the rest of the confused looks on the doctors' faces. She met House outside the office where 3 young med students waited.

"I'd like you all to meet my assistant Angel Hoffman. She will be playing the part of patient today." Angel was filled with a bunch of questions but kept silent as they followed House to an exam room. He had Angel sit on the exam table and roll up the sleeve on the arm with the bruise. She felt her face get hot.

"Um, Dr. House…I thought I was going to be answering mail or…" He cut her off.

"This is a teaching hospital and today this is how you will assist me. May I continue?" She meekly nodded.

"Today's lesson is one that can be summed up the eternal words of The Clash: _Should I Stay or Should I Go?_" Angel smiled, in spite of herself. The rest of the students gave House a blank stare. "Good God what are they teaching you in school these days? The Clash? One of the best rock bands ever?" He let out a frustrated sigh.

"A patient injures themselves. Or they are sick, whatever. They start wondering if they should go to their doctor, clinic, ER, or just stay home and self-treat. In many cases, whatever it is will work itself out. A cold that doesn't need antibiotics. A sprain that just needs ice and rest. Other cases don't work out so well."

"Ms. Hoffman fell and injured her arm last Monday and chose not to visit a clinic or ER. You can observe there is still quite a bit of swelling and bruising. Ms. Hoffman, could you wiggle your fingers for me. Good, normal reflexes there. Squeeze my hand." As Angel did so, she flinched a bit. "Ok some tenderness leftover. Diagnosis?"

"Bruise or a sprain?" said one.

"Possibly. What else can we do for a diagnosis?" House wasn't looking at Angel a bit. She knew he didn't buy the slip and fall excuse. Had Wilson told him?

"X-ray, CT scan?" said another.

"Palpitating the arm should come first, the CT scan may just be a costly test the patient can't afford," said the third. House turned and smiled.

"I like you. Ok, have at it." The student gently began to physically examine Angel's arm. At one point, the pain was severe enough; Angel grew very pale and whimpered. The student had her lie down; another got her a cup of water.

"X-ray, definitely," House said, giving a nod of approval to the third student. He turned to Angel, eyes meeting hers. "Have you taken a pain pill yet?" She shook her head. He grabbed a syringe of something and gave her an injection. "It's your normal dose of vicodin but it should kick in quickly. Then we'll take you to x-ray."

"How do you know if a patient is just drug seeking?" Asked the first student. House got a surly look on his face.

"You're going to meet some who are, some who are in desperate need of pain relief. I know for a fact that she has chronic pain and what her medications are. It's better to treat pain—even if you're fooled—than to deny a person pain relief. It's one of the cruelest things a doctor can do."

With Angel in a wheelchair—she was feeling woozy from the vicodin injection—they went to x-ray and took several views of her arm. "Now, we want to focus on this injury. Nothing else matters, got it? You can scan a thousand people who feel perfectly fine and find anomalies that might never be discovered until they live a long healthy life."

House took the group to another room and quickly put up the films from her x-ray. He sternly reminded them about looking for this cause for pain. Angel thought it was a bit odd but she'd been told many times how unconventional he was.

"There," all three students concurred. "Nightstick fracture." Angel looked confused.

"You have a fracture in your ulna. We'll need to splint it, and you'll need to take it easy for awhile. You're lucky. Had this been worse, it could lead to infection, nerve damage, and permanent damage to your arm." Angel nodded, feeling embarrassed.

"Dr. House, about these other areas on the xray…." House cut him off.

"Class dismissed. Go find Cuddy and log your hours with her. I have an arm to splint." The students looked a bit befuddled but did as they were told.

House and Angel didn't speak while he splinted her arm, until the very end. "And just what did we learn today?"

"When I slip and fall, don't wait. Get it checked out," she replied quietly. She looked up and saw a stern look on his face.

"Nope. The lesson is don't lie to me. We both know you didn't get this from a fall. The question is why didn't you come in like Wilson suggested?" He still looked angry but his voice wasn't entirely unkind.

"I…..I was ashamed. I got myself into that situation and I knew everyone would see it that way. I was stupid for being out there at night alone." A tear slipped out, she felt so humiliated.

"Hey." House gently touched her arm. "It wasn't your fault. But call someone next time before things get bad." She nodded quickly. "Now, how does that feel?" He grabbed a sling out of the drawer, helped her put it on.

"Ok. Thanks House."

"Think you are ready for work? Just work on sorting messages, email and such. I don't want you wandering around and falling over." She nodded. House escorted her back to her desk and then headed back out with her films.

"Oh man I knew I should have insisted on bringing her in," groaned Wilson, as House showed him Angel's x-rays.

"Yeah yeah, save the guilt factor. She's splinted and is going to be fine. That's not why I brought by her films. Take another look," House said impatiently, while inwardly he felt a bit sick. His theory had been right.

"Are those….?" Wilson furrowed his brow and looked at House, then back at the x-ray. His finger started pointing out several places on her forearm that didn't look right. When his friend didn't answer, he finished his own sentence. "Are those old, untreated fractures?"

"Yep. Would explain her chronic pain, and her reluctance to call the police or get medical help. Someone has beaten her up before."

The team whispered their guesses as to the new splint on Angel's arm. So intent on their gossip, they failed to notice House. "Are we putting money on this? If so, I'm in for $50." Half the team looked like deer caught in the headlights, the other half, buried their noses in files. "Ms. Hoffman will be fine, she injured her arm, and an x-ray today showed a minor fracture. End of story." House reviewed some files they presented then sent them off to run tests.

He sat at his desk next to Angel's, tossing his ball up in the air while he thought about the case, about Angel, about Angel and Wilson. His concentration was broken by Angel timidly asking, "Dr. House?"

He swiveled in his chair to look at her. "Yessss?"

"You know I need to take my meds and I wanted to know if it's ok to take them here….in front of you," Angel asked, knowing of his recent battle with vicodin addiction.

"Sure, that will be fine." House was a bit surprised at her consideration, but felt a bit irritated by her nervous vibe. First day jitters, House guessed but still….Angel leaned over to her purse to get her meds. Damned if she hadn't worn the red bra again. House couldn't help but stare, and then quickly turned when she sat up. She crossed her legs, skirt riding higher on her thighs. House knew it was time to bail or else. "Well I'm off to lunch with Wilson. Feel free to eat up here, or, I don't know, find one of the team to eat with." And with that, he was out to door, headed to Wilson's office.

If Angel didn't feel like the odd person out before, House made it perfectly clear where her place was in this office. She opened her top drawer, looked at the small photo and told herself she had to make this job work. She didn't feel so hungry now, and didn't want to face anyone down in the cafeteria. Not that she could afford more than a small salad anyway. So Angel made a cup of tea and finished out the day with the slight satisfaction that she'd lasted a day with Dr. Greg House.

On her way out, Wilson ran and caught up with her. "Hey, how was your first day?" He asked, kissing her cheek. "Sorry to hear about your arm by the way." Wilson had a guilty look on his face. Angel softly brushed her fingers across his cheek.

"My arm will be fine and my day was….ok." She managed half a smile and shrugged.

"Hey, how about dinner at the loft on Wednesday?" Wilson felt a bit awkward around her at work, and he could see the effect it was having on her. She looked timid.

"Sure, that would be great, thanks. I can't wait to see the place," Angel said squeezing his hand. Somewhere down the hallway, House bellowed for Wilson. "You better go. See you tomorrow?" Wilson quickly kissed her cheek again and dashed off.

Angel reached up to her cheek where his lips had been. Before the tears came, she quickly took some meds. It would be a long walk home.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Wilson unlocked the door to the loft and flicked on the lights. Angel let House in before her, and then gazed around the loft. "It's beautiful! Wow," Angel grinned. "I wouldn't know what to do with so much space," she laughed. House's piano caught her eye. "Oh House….your piano is magnificent. Maybe…you'll play something?"

House wasn't pleased when Wilson told him Angel was coming for dinner. Trouble was, he wasn't sure why. She was working well, though asked a lot of questions. Kept to herself for the most part. Her wardrobe was a bit, well, alluring and House had to remind himself that she was his employee and…well, whatever she was to Wilson. Was that it? Her relationship with Wilson?

"Maybe. My leg hurts and I'm tired," House replied a bit on the surly side.

House's attitude didn't improve any during dinner while Wilson and Angel chatted and laughed over things House just wasn't interested in. Angel tried to include him in the conversation but he wasn't in the mood. Before dessert, he abruptly announced he was going to bed, bid a curt goodnight to them and went down to his room.

Angel looked a bit dismayed. "James, I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have come." He put his hand over hers and smiled.

"Don't mind him. Just takes time for House to get used to people." Wilson was a bit irked at House's manners but it wouldn't do any good to try to deal with him tonight. "Hey, how about we relax on the couch?"

Wilson poured some wine, turned on some music, and the two of them curled up on the couch together. Angel's heart fluttered; perhaps his shyness at the hospital had simply been that—afraid to show affection at work. Halfway through their glasses of wine, Wilson was feeling relaxed and began kissing Angel's neck. His hands began to roam over her body as her lips met his, enjoying the warmth and taste of the wine on his mouth. Wilson slowly began to unbutton her blouse, kissing her skin as she moaned softly.

"Wilson!" The two of them jumped. Angel started rebuttoning her blouse. Thankfully House didn't come down the hallway. "I need you for a minute." Wilson took that as a sign he needed morphine.

"I'll be right back." He kissed Angel's head, then grabbed his bag from his room and went into House's bedroom.

"Morphine?" Wilson rolled out his meds. House sat on his bed, glaring.

"No. How about some earplugs though? I have to live here too, you know. Can't you two….do _that_…somewhere else? It's bad enough you had her over for dinner." House grumbled like a petulant child.

"First off, this is our loft. You are free to invite someone over just as I am. And for Pete's sake….turn on the TV or radio," Wilson replied, flustered that House had heard them making out.

"Ok, I do want the morphine. But she better not be here in the morning," House continued to growl. Wilson refused to respond. He gave House his injection and shut the door without a word.

By the time Wilson got back out to the living room, Angel was asleep on the couch. Wilson stood and watched for a moment, noting how lovely she was, though he was a bit concerned with how pale she continued to look. Gently he covered her with a blanket and sat at the end of the couch.

Angel began to mumble in her sleep and toss a bit. Wilson thought this was a bit cute until a frown covered her face. "Connor….Connor, where are you? Please come back…." The pleading sound in her voice gave Wilson a lump in his throat.

He knelt next to her and softly shook her. "Angel? Wake up, you're just having a bad dream," he said, trying to comfort her. Slowly she blinked her eyes, a bit disoriented.

"James….what….did I fall asleep?" He nodded, her cheeks got pink. "Oh I'm so embarrassed." She softly laughed and sat up. Wilson sat next to her. She noticed an odd look on his face. "What is it?"

"You….were talking in your sleep. I think you were having a nightmare. You kept saying the name Connor." At that word, Angel went from pale to white and began trembling head to toe.

She stood up, flustered and began to cry. "James I need to go, I'm sorry, but I have to leave." He tried to take her arm, but she pulled it away, walking backwards to the door.

"Angel, wait, I don't understand, what is it? What's wrong? Please talk to me. At least let me drive you home," Wilson tried to reason with her. Her sobbing got louder and she seemed more disoriented than before.

"What the hell is going on?" yelled House from down the hallway. Slowly he limped out to see Angel having a complete meltdown and Wilson frantic to stop her from leaving.

When Wilson's attention shifted briefly to House, Angel ran out the front door. "House, not now!" Wilson ran his fingers through his hair, and then saw her coat and cane. "Damn." He grabbed his coat and car keys, then her belongings.

"Just where do you think you're going?" House snarled. "She's obviously a nutcase."

"I'm not going to let her wander around out there, especially without a coat. I'll be back….later." Wilson's irritation with House quickly faded as he drove the streets slowly to her apartment, watching the temperature dipping.

Angel ran from their building, tears blurring her vision and burning her cheeks. At first she just wandered, not caring where she was or what happened to her. But when she heard the church bells chime, she knew where she had to be.

Angel couldn't remember the last time she'd been here. The gate here was never locked, so she slipped in and wandered to the back. Even in the dark, she knew where he was. When she arrived, her legs gave out and she slumped to the cold ground. "Oh my baby," she whispered, new tears falling, now feeling like ice.

Her shaking hand reached out and traced the letters etched in the small black marble headstone:

Connor Ethan Hoffman

February 28, 2004-March 14, 2007

My Beautiful Guardian Angel

Mama Loves You

"Oh Connor, I'm so sorry, baby." Angel wept until she felt like her heart would just stop from the pain. She wished it would. She put her head down, curling up. The cold started to hit her, making her teeth rattle but she would not leave him. Between crying herself into exhaustion and the dropping temperature, Angel felt sleepy. She closed her eyes, wishing she could be reunited once more.

Wilson got to Angel's apartment with no sign of her anywhere. Something was terribly wrong and he had to find her. Though he didn't see a light on in her apartment, Wilson knocked anyway. "Angel? Are you there? It's James. Please let me in, let me know you're ok." His heart was pounding.

The door across the hall opened and an elderly woman peered out suspiciously. "What are you wanting with Ms. Hoffman?" the small woman bristled with a thick Irish brogue.

"I...I'm a friend of Angel's and she was very upset when she left my place and I'm trying to find her. I'm just worried about her. I work with her at the hospital," he added, hoping that would garner favor, and it did. She introduced herself as Mrs. O'Reilly.

"Oh! You're the one she talked about! I haven't heard her come home though," she replied, a flash of worry crossing her face. "I try to help her out, she has no family, but she wouldn't even stay over after they shut her heat off." She tsked like a mother hen.

"Wait…..what? They shut off her heat? When?" Mrs. O'Reilly told him last Saturday…the morning he'd been here…and she'd never said a word all week. No wonder she looked so worn out.

Wilson handed her a business card. "When she gets home, no matter what time it is, would you please call me? I'll feel better knowing she's home. And don't worry about her heat—I'll take care of it," assured Wilson, who got a hug from Angel's neighbor.

Wilson drove slowly back home, willing to find her, willing for his phone to ring. He fell asleep on the couch somewhere around midnight, exhausted with worry.

Somewhere around 2a.m. Wilson's phone rang. It was Mrs. O'Reilly.

House awoke to the sounds of Wilson rapidly grabbing a bag of things. "Wilson?" He blinked at the brightness of the lights.

"Angel's on her way to PPTH via ambulance. Her neighbor just called. Angel collapsed outside her apartment door and was unresponsive. I'm on my way there." Wilson replied wearily. House grabbed his arm.

"Don't. She's not your project. And she's not your patient." House tried to reason with him, but Wilson would have none of it.

"House, I care about her. And whether you like it or not, I'm worried and want to make sure she's ok. I'll probably be staying the night so you'll have to take the bus to work." And with that, Wilson left.

Wilson phoned ahead to PPTH to expect a hypothermia patient en route in need of external warming; he'd meet them in the ER. They were taking her out of the rig as he pulled up. Wilson ran over to her; were she not breathing, he would assume she had already died. The pallor on her face was frightening; her lips blue, her hands colder than ice.

Wilson stood back and let the ER docs work on her, answering questions on her meds, and what he knew of her behavior before she left. They placed warming blankets over her combined with hot water bottles around her extremities. They also added warmed saline in her IV. Wilson knew it was just a matter of wait and see. There didn't appear to be any damage to fingers, toes or organs; Wilson said a silent prayer of relief. As soon as she was stabilized and her body temperature back in the normal range, they moved her to a room. Wilson settled into a chair by her bed and softly stroked her hair.

"James?" A soft raspy voice woke him; he opened his eyes to see Angel's, looking around confused.

"Hey, beautiful," he said, relieved, kissing her hand. "It's ok; you're going to be ok. You're at PPTH. Do you remember what happened?"

Angel struggled to clear the cobwebs from her thoughts_. Dinner at James' place…Connor...oh God, Connor_…Angel started to hyperventilate, setting off her monitors. Wilson rubbed her hand, trying to calm her, but finally resorted to a sedative. She was calmer, but continued to cry.

"Angel, whatever it is…please….I can't bear to see you like this," Wilson kissed her cheek.

"You'll hate me….I can't….." The rest of her words became incoherent sobs. Wilson gave her more sedative; slowly her words made more sense, though he could see how numb the medication was making her.

_It's probably a relief_, he thought. "Angel, who's Connor? I promise, I won't hate you. You can trust me," Wilson looked into her eyes, stroking her cheek.

She looked away; Wilson decided not to push anymore right now. But then she began softly, "Connor….was my son." She looked back at him, a faraway look in her eyes. "He died 3 years ago. He would have been six."

Wilson felt like someone had just punched him in the stomach. He held her hand as she continued. "He got sick, and it was nothing and then….it got worse." She swallowed the growing lump in her throat. "I didn't have insurance, and the hospital wanted me to pay up front. I went to my boss and begged him but….he didn't have that kind of money sitting around." Angel's chest heaved feeling the pain fresh as if it were yesterday. "He died in my arms, and it's my fault."

Wilson felt the sting of tears in his eyes. "It wasn't your fault. No hospital should ever deny anyone treatment. I know we don't. But all these years you've blamed yourself….Oh Angel." He wrapped his arms around her, she pushed him away.

"I was his mother! I should have done everything to save him and I didn't! You should hate me," she sobbed into her hands. Wilson gently took them and felt his own tears fall, for her, Connor, Amber, and for himself.

He wrapped his arms around her once more; she was too exhausted to fight it. "Of course I don't hate you….but…what about your family? Connor's father? Didn't they help you see it wasn't your fault?" He felt her entire body tense, and looked at her face. She looked…afraid?

"I left home when I was 15. Started out bussing tables at…..at a strip club. I was stripping by the time I was 16. I was good at it, but I was young and stupid and didn't think about things like saving money. I got my GED, took some business classes….One night I was leaving and a prominent customer wanted a private show. I politely declined and……" Angel's voice choked up, she had to fight to catch her breath. "He threw me down and raped me behind a dumpster. By the time I found out I was pregnant….I wanted Connor." Angel gave Wilson a sad smile.

"That's why you didn't want the police the other day….." Wilson asked. She nodded, looking down.

"Back then, the cops would have laughed if I had reported it. My boss was kind; he made sure this guy stayed away from me when he came to the club." Angel shuddered.

"I had to stop stripping…I wanted a better life for my son. So I started working in the office. But a lot less money….and well you know the rest." She fell silent. Wilson felt sick to his stomach. So much he didn't know about Angel's life, but what he did….and yet, she was kind, sweet and loving. The horrible things in her life hadn't made her hard and calloused to the world.

"I'm….so very sorry about your son, Angel. No one should lose a child, and never that way. We have…grief counselors if you ever need to talk to someone…." Angel shook her head, looking scared.

"You're the first person in my….new life…that I've ever told. After Connor died, I drifted around, doing odd jobs, until that last medical job. But I stayed to myself. Look…I know I lied a bit on my resume and I promise I'll tell Dr. Cuddy the truth, but please, let me do it," Angel asked, her eyes begging him.

Wilson caressed her cheek. "Absolutely. Though considering the circumstances, I don't think it will matter to her."

"So…when can I get out of here? I have to work and don't want to run up any more bills," Angel looked at the clock and fidgeted nervously.

"Whoa there, you need to rest today. And don't worry about the bills; they'll work it out so they take a little out of your paycheck at a time." He saw Angel bite her lip and held back saying anything about knowing her heat had been shut off. "Everything will be ok." She looked up and smiled, but fought to stay awake. Wilson had slipped a bit more sedative into her IV; he wanted to make sure she was absolutely stable before going home or, god forbid, going back to work.

"Ok," Angel submitted, yawning.

Wilson smiled, came over and gave her a long, warm, lingering kiss that she felt to her toes. She wrapped her good arm around his neck and kissed him back, adding her tongue and teasing his.

Neither of them saw House looking in the room, glowering. He was cold, he'd had to take the bus, and his leg hurt. He was really pissed off.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

By afternoon, Angel was well enough by Wilson's standards to be discharged. She changed into some scrubs and headed to the office, despite Wilson's protests that she should go home.

House barely looked at her as she walked in. "Dr. House?" No response. "I…want to apologize for last night. I promise, it won't happen again."

Finally, he looked at her, and she felt a sickening knot grow in her stomach. "Damn right it won't. Because you won't be coming back to the loft. Ever."

"And what does James have to say about that?" She hadn't meant to sound snippy, but House had completely caught her off-guard.

"When you are here at work, you will call him Dr. Wilson. And I live there too. Neither of us needs this drama you have going on. It's not like he cares about you." House's words stung and hit her like a ton of bricks.

"You're wrong. He does care about me," Angel retorted, her cheeks feeling hot. The rest of the team was in the conference room and they were all watching.

House let out a sarcastic laugh. "You're just another project. And then he'll move on. You didn't think because you had sex he was in love with you? This conversation is over. Get out."

Angel felt her temper boil over. "What are you so afraid of House? Afraid that you're going to meddle just a little too much like you did with Amber, and you'll lose James for good?"

House stood, glaring down at her. Both of them were breathing hard. "I knew that nice act was just for show. Finally, the claws come out. You've gone too far. You _will_ apologize for that or you're fired. Taub!" House yelled. Nervously Taub poked his head in the office. "Get Wilson, now. Tell him to get her out of my sight." Taub ran.

Wilson was alarmed at the sight of Taub's face, and even more so when he informed him that Angel and House were having a very loud fight. The looks on their faces when he got there….."Angel, House, what's going on?"

Angel was about to speak when House pulled a small framed photo out of his pocket. "That's mine, how dare you," Angel snapped, snatched it back, roughly. House had a small unkind smile on his face.

"So, who's the kid? What, were you going to tell us you had a one night stand and that he belonged to one of us? Funny things, those paternity tests," House mocked as Angel began trembling with rage.

"House, stop," Wilson firmly put his hand on House's arm. "Don't do this."

"Or were you looking for a sugar daddy for your bastard kid and yourself?" Before anyone saw it coming, Angel's hand flew out and slapped House on the face, hard, causing him to take a few steps backwards.

"Wilson, she will apologize by tomorrow or she's fired." House seethed, face red from her blow. He ignored the wide-eyed look of his team as he stormed out of the office and down the hall.

Wilson sank into a chair, overwhelmed. "Angel, what the hell happened here?" He saw she was still shaking and got her to sit down.

She began to recount how the apology had escalated when he got a page. His face went from concerned to pale. "It's….from House…." He looked at Angel with an odd look. "Tell me you didn't bring up Amber." Her silence told him House was telling the truth. He buried his face in his hands.

"James, I…I'm sorry, he just…" She reached out to touch his arm, and he flinched, pulling away.

"You had no right to say that. I've never blamed House for what happened to Amber," he said, softly, beginning to choke up. He stood up.

"I…I need to go. I need some time to think about this," Wilson began to leave, almost in a daze.

"James, please, let me explain…." Angel felt devastated that she'd hurt him. But Wilson shook his head, walked out the door without a word.

She looked out into the conference room. It was empty. She gathered her things and left. She knew no matter how much she apologized, House would fire her. Wilson would never forgive her. It was over. She would show up in the morning. Make her apologies and if House didn't fire her, leave her resignation with Dr. Cuddy.

She got home, her emotions numbing her pain. She'd been sitting on the couch drinking sake for a while before she realized a familiar hum—the heat was running. How in the world…? A quick check of her account online showed that not only was her account caught up, but there were several months paid for in advance.

Angel cried, knowing it had to be Wilson, and knowing how she'd just hurt him. She was hurting and hungry—tomorrow's paycheck couldn't come soon enough—but at least she was warm. Angel took her meds and a sleeping pill, hoping to ward off any dreams at all.

Despite the sleeping pill, Angel awoke early, looking haggard. She took a few extra Ativan and headed to PPTH, knowing she would get probably her first and last paycheck. She sat on the bench outside the conference room, twitching with anxiety despite her meds.

One by one, the team showed up. They didn't speak with her, but all seemed to have a sympathetic look in their eyes for her. They'd all faced the wrath of House before, and it wasn't the first time his mouth had gotten him slapped or punched. At the same time, they didn't want to get in the middle of whatever was going on, so they sat at the table talking quietly.

When Angel saw House and Wilson walking together down the hallway she wasn't sure she could do this. The impulse to run was overwhelming. House stopped in front of her. "My office, now." Angel followed them like a whipped dog.

House and Wilson sat, looking at her. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since yesterday. There was no trace of emotion on House's face, but Wilson looked weary and had a hard time making eye contact with her. She felt a fresh pang of regret hit her in the chest.

"Well, do you have something to say?" A cruel gleam in House's eye told Angel he had not cooled off overnight.

"I'm….so very sorry for what I said to you about Amber. I was wrong and it didn't just hurt you, it hurt Dr. Wilson. I don't have an excuse for that or for slapping you. I'm not saying this to save my job. I didn't expect to have one when I got here this morning. But you two deserved an apology. I'll clear out my desk and turn in my security badge right away." Angel bit her lip to keep it from quivering, but it was easy to see her entire body shaking and the remorse in her eyes.

House and Wilson sat there silently. House almost enjoyed watching her squirm but he could tell it was bothering Wilson. "Go sit out there while I decide what to do with you," House barked. Angel sat at an empty chair next to Taub. She fought the urge to cry; Taub patted her hand and handed her a tissue.

Angel kept glancing into House's office. Could this mean she wasn't fired? Or was he just prolonging his game? She chided herself. He had every right to be angry, after what she said and did.

"Angel!" She scurried back at his command. "Now then. If it were up to me, you'd be gone. But Wilson has persuaded me to let you keep your job. But if you mess up just once, you're out of here. Got it?" Angel nodded quickly, letting out a little sigh of relief and stress.

"You're to get your desk out of here. Move it…somewhere in the conference room. And next week, you'll be working for Foreman. I don't want to see you or hear you for a week, got it?" Angel nodded again. "Any questions?"

"No, Dr. House. Thank you. I…I am very sorry. Is there anything else?" She was so relieved she almost smiled.

"Who's the kid in the picture?" Both Angel and Wilson froze.

"House, maybe now is not such a good time…." Wilson tried to protect Angel but she shook her head at him.

"James, it's ok," she said softly then looked at House. "He's my son, Connor. He died when he was 3. He got sick, and the hospital wouldn't treat him without cash or insurance. He would be six." She looked down, trying to keep calm.

Wilson saw House's eyes soften, and a rare look of compassion cross his face. "I'm very sorry for your loss," House said. Angel looked up, surprised at the tone in his voice.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Go take a seat out there while I instruct Foreman of your duties for the week," House said, a bit less rough than he had been minutes before.

"May I speak to Dr. Wilson for a few minutes?" Angel looked at Wilson, hopefully.

"Sure," Wilson said, escorting Angel out, and informing Foreman that House wanted to speak to him.

"James, I am so sorry….." He waved it off.

"I know you wouldn't do anything to hurt me on purpose. And…House can push buttons." Wilson tried to smile.

"I wanted to thank you for taking care of my heating bill. I promise to pay you back every penny," she assured him.

"That's really not necessary," Wilson said flustered. "I just wish you'd told me."

"And…I wanted you to know I'll stay out of your way, so you won't have to see me here at work," Angel looked down, a few tears forming that she quickly wiped away.

"And that would be…why?" Wilson gently took her hand. She looked up in surprise. "What if I want to see you?" He smiled.

"But…all that…I thought you'd never want to see me or speak to me again," Angel said, perplexed.

"How many times have House and I had it out and we're still friends….everyone deserves a second chance. Some, more than two," Wilson chuckled.

"It's just that…no one has given me a second chance before," Angel looked like she didn't quite trust him.

"Well, you deserve one. Just get through next week with Foreman and things will be fine." Wilson kissed her fingertips. "I promise."

Angel let out a shuddering sigh, closing her eyes. "Thank you, James. You don't know what this means to me."

"Tell you what, why don't I pick up some things and cook you dinner at your place? I think both of us could use a relaxing Friday night." Angel hesitated until Wilson gave her a sweet smile. She blushed and nodded. "Ok. I have to take House home and pick up a few groceries. Shall I meet you at your place or pick you up here?"

"Here…I want to make sure maintenance moves that desk today." They both smiled a bit when House called for Wilson.

He kissed her quickly on the cheek, and then went to tend to House. Angel met Foreman in the hallway and they walked to his office.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"I'm sorry you're stuck with me for the week, ," Angel said timidly.

Foreman stopped walking and smiled at her. "Think of it as a vacation from House ok?" he joked, winking. They continued on, Foreman remarking, "Trust me, you're not the first person to hit House. I'm sure he deserved it."

Foreman's office was small; he offered Angel the couch to sit on, as he could see she looked exhausted. "You're pretty much going to be doing the same work you did for House, so….nothing new to teach you."

"If it's ok, I need to make a phone call to maintenance. House wants my desk moved out of his office," Angel said, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She began to relay this information over the phone, as Foreman started going through some files.

"No, that will not be satisfactory. Look, I'm calling for Dr. Greg House's office and he needs a desk moved _now_, not a week from now. No you don't understand, I…_ugh_!" She slammed the phone down and buried her face in her hands. "I am so fired." She began to shake.

"Hey, easy now," Foreman sat next to her on the couch, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure House will not fire you over this." Angel looked into his eyes with sheer panic.

"No, you don't understand. He made it quite clear and if I screw up again, I'm fired." Angel started hyperventilating.

"Ok then, we'll move the desk." Angel looked at him in disbelief. "What, you don't think I can? I work out you know." His cocky attitude made her smile. "Oh but your arm….let's see if Taub is still around."

A quick page later and Angel had her moving team. After they were sure that House was gone for the day, they got to work. When Foreman took off his lab coat and rolled up his sleeves, Angel couldn't help but notice what nice arms he had. When Taub caught her staring, he grinned and she blushed. The three of them got it done in no time at all. Angel grabbed sodas from the lounge for the guys and they sat around the conference table.

"Eric, Chris, thank you. I don't know how I would have gotten that done by myself. My heroes," she said. As she walked over to get her purse, she started feeling light-headed and grabbed her chair before she hit the floor.

"Whoa, Angel, " Foreman caught her and sat her in a chair. Taub fussed over her, taking her pulse.

"Guys it's ok, really, sorry to scare you. Just hungry I guess." She waved it off as a joke but she was starting to shake hard.

Taub brought her some juice. "Do you have a history of low blood sugar?" Angel nodded. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Um…." Angel was trying to think, _had_ _it really been yesterday at lunch?_ "A while." She slowly sipped the juice and the jitters slowed down.

"I think you know how important regular meals are in managing your migraines too," Foreman gently scolded. "Speaking of which, I just got your records so whenever you'd like to make an appointment…you know where I am." He grinned at her.

"Well, now that you're ok, and I'm leaving you in capable hands, I need to get home to Rachel," Taub said, putting on his coat.

"Tell Rachel you're a prince for me, "Angel said, giving him a friendly peck on the cheek. Now Taub was blushing as he left.

Foreman laughed. "You just made his day. A kiss from the hot new assistant…" Foreman stopped, looking a bit embarrassed now himself.

Angel smiled and leaned on her arm. "No, no, go on, my ego can use it," she laughed, then gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "You're a prince too. Anyone I'm keeping you from?"

"No, it's good. You need a lift home?" He decided working with her was going to be much better than working with House.

"James is coming back to pick me up, but thanks for the offer." Did he look a little disappointed?

Angel couldn't remember a day that had begun so horribly but ended up pretty well like today. Getting along with House was going to take a lot of work to repair but she had a whole week before then.

The drive home was pretty quiet between House and Wilson to begin with. Finally House caved. "Look, Wilson, I didn't know about her kid, ok? You know I never would have been that way."

Wilson sighed and rubbed his neck. "House, I know…I just found out yesterday about her son. That's why she had that anxiety attack in the loft—she'd had a nightmare about him and didn't know what to tell me. She blames herself for his death" The two sat quietly a bit more; Wilson glanced over and saw House's rare look of guilt. "But you had no right to speak for me concerning the loft or my feelings towards her. Last I checked, my name is on the lease. And I care deeply for her. What is this about? Is this your way of showing her you like her by insulting her?" Wilson sighed with frustration.

"Well if that's how you feel I'll move back to my old apartment. And no, I don't like her. I just don't want to see you get hurt." House began to sulk.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Don't start with the 'I'm moving out' routine. You know you need me for the morphine. But by all means, if you're having a bad day, tell me, and I'll reschedule my plans or take them elsewhere."

"Okay." House grudgingly accepted those terms.

"And House? Be nice to her, or at least try. If her son and those old fractures aren't enough for you, just know she's had a pretty hard life so far, not to mention she is also in pain. She's apologized, she feels terrible about what she said and she's genuine about her apology."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," House grumbled. "So what am I doing for dinner?"

"You have every takeout place on speed-dial. I'll leave you one dose of morphine, and you can always call me." Wilson got him upstairs and left the meds on his nightstand.

"Wilson…..are we okay?" He sat on his bed, looking up at Wilson, concerned. "Yeah House, we're ok." He smiled back at his best friend, patted him on the shoulder and left


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER 7**

Foreman sat with Angel until Wilson arrived. "Hey make sure you feed her well, her blood sugar took a nose dive earlier," Foreman told Wilson. Both looked at her with concern.

"I'm fine, but you're both terribly sweet to care. Eric, thanks again for everything. See you on Monday?"

"Sure thing. Take it easy this weekend ok?" Angel promised she would.

"Well…seems like you and Foreman have hit it off already," Wilson said. Angel told him about moving the desk and he laughed. "I really don't think House would fire you over that but I can see why you'd worry."

When they got to Angel's apartment, Wilson told her to just go upstairs and relax; he'd bring in the groceries. After a few trips down to the car, Angel looked at Wilson like he was nuts. "Are you feeding an army?" She started laughing.

After the last bag was brought in, Wilson sat next to her on the couch. "Angel, I figured you were having trouble covering your bills, and I haven't seen you eat at work once this week…." She turned away, turning crimson and looking humiliated.

"I'm not your project!" she shouted, standing up, heading towards her room. Wilson stopped her, gently catching her arm, made her look at him.

"No, you're not. You're the woman I care deeply for, and I'm not about to sit by and watch you suffer because you've had a string of bad luck." Wilson kissed her gently, stroking her hair. "Now. What are you in the mood for? I can make chicken parmigiana, veggie stir fry, beef stroganoff….?"

Angel couldn't stay cross with him. "The stroganoff sounds great. I think I have a bottle of red wine around here somewhere." Before she could take a step, Wilson pulled out a bottle of red wine from one of the bags, and smiled. "You are prepared, James Wilson, I'll give you that."

After she changed into a comfier outfit, Wilson poured her a glass of wine and ordered her to sit back on the couch and kick her feet up. He started putting away the groceries. He knew she just got her paycheck but it made him sad to see how little food she had on hand. Wilson had the sauce and beef simmering soon; he joined her, clinking glasses. "What are you thinking?" Wilson asked, noting her quiet demeanor.

"Well, speaking of bills, I have this for you." She pulled a check out of her purse and handed it to him. "I know it's not much but I promise I will pay you back for my heating bill. And the food." Wilson began to protest but Angel won him over. "Please. I don't want House or anyone else to think I'm your project or that I'm taking advantage of you."

Wilson grudgingly took it. "But this is what friends do. They look out for each other. You'd do the same for me, right?"

"Yes, but…" Wilson silenced her with a kiss. "It's settled then. I have to go stir. Be back."

Angel closed her eyes and heard Wilson come up behind her. He started rubbing her shoulders and neck. She tilted her head back and was met with a sensual kiss. He kissed each of her lips separately, then the top of her head. He went back to rubbing her shoulders, eliciting a purr of happiness from Angel. His fingers trailed along her collarbone, and then slowly unfastened a few buttons. He leaned over, slowly running his hands down into her shirt, feeling her breasts beneath the lace, feeling her nipples get hard under his fingertips. Wilson began kissing her earlobe then neck, feeling her breathing quickening under his hands.

"Are you ready to eat……um, dinner I mean?" Wilson whispered into her ear, flustered.

Angel looked up at him and gave him a sexy smile. "Something like that."

For once, Angel really had to admit she wanted food before sex. The smell had her feeling light-headed again, and the wine was hitting her hard. He insisted she stay put as he set the table, found a candle and lit it, then held her chair for her. "This is really nice, James. You sure know how to make a girl feel special in her own place." _Great in the kitchen, great in bed_, she thought.

Angel insisted on clearing the table afterwards. She started rinsing the dishes when Wilson came up behind her, wrapping his hands around her hips, pressing against her. "Can't those wait until later?" He breathed onto her neck, causing a lovely shudder to go throughout her body. When she hesitated, Wilson scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Angel giggled, burying her face into his neck while she blushed.

"I guess you don't take no for an answer," Angel remarked as Wilson climbed into bed next to her. He gazed into her eyes as he ran his fingers through her hair. Then he began kissing her forehead, temple, cheek. As he got to her lips, Angel gently put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Wilson pulled back, concern and confusion on his face.

"James…we need to talk." Once more, she knew if she didn't say it now, she might not get up the nerve later.

"Uh-oh, this doesn't sound good," Wilson said, with a nervous chuckle, hoping she was just teasing him.

"We both said a lot of things the other night and here's the thing…..I think I'm falling in love with you. But….I'm pretty sure you don't feel the same for me." _Oh please let me be wrong_, Angel prayed.

Guilt washed over Wilson's face; he tried to come up with something to say, but the words weren't there. Both of them sighed and quietly held each other. Wilson had to look at her; he knew it would hurt to see her crying but anything but the truth was going to hurt her. She looked sad, but resigned. "Are you ok?"

"Yes….no. You'd think as many times as this has happened to me, I would be but….you're different. I've never met a man like you. You're the best friend I've ever had, you're kind, smart, incredible in bed," they both grinned, while Wilson kissed her forehead. "Is it because of what I said yesterday? Or because I'm just a secretary? Or…my past?"

"Oh, God no….no, not at all. I care about you so very much but….I'm still not ready for a serious relationship. You deserve someone who loves you deeply. I….still talk to Amber," Wilson confessed.

Angel looked at him with sad, knowing eyes. "I talk to Connor too. Not a day goes by that I don't miss him." Angel was quiet for a minute. "So, where does this leave us? Friends as in we just say hello at work? Or friends that sometime get together and do things like dinner, the opera, or maybe just hang out?"

"I like the sound of that kind of friendship," Wilson said, hugging her tighter.

"What about….friends with benefits? You know, if we're lonely or we've had too much sake..?" Angel looked up at him. "I'm always going to love you anyway. You're an incredible man, James Wilson."

"I….don't know. Never had that kind of friendship before," he nervously laughed.

"We're here, already in bed; my shirt is unbuttoned quite a bit…." Angel smiled coyly.

"True, true," Wilson nodded his head, like he really had to think it over. "Well, since I'm already here…" They laughed. Slowly he finished unbuttoning her shirt, and she shed her pants. She straddled him, wearing just her bra and bikini. "I think I like this kind of friendship," James said in a husky voice.

Angel began to slowly sway her hips from side to side, raising her hands to her hair and brushing it off her shoulders. She then rolled her shoulders back, arching her breasts forward, impossible for Wilson to resist. He sat up and kissed her hard, pressing her against his chest. The lace felt so sensual, looked amazing on her. Since it was practically see-through, he gazed at the darkness of her breasts that showed through, felt her nipples brushing against his skin.

Wilson quickly tossed off his shirt, and when he stood to remove his pants, Angel stood with him. She quickly took off his belt and unbuttoned his pants, but then knelt down and ever so slowly, unzipped his pants with her teeth. Wilson's head arched back, breathing hard, and then looked back down to her, his hands pressing on her shoulders.

Her hands went to his waist, and helped him remove his pants. Then her right hand began to massage one thigh, then the other, front and back. In the same manner as his pants, she removed his boxers, very slowly, drawing this out as long as she could. Then, she slowly pivoted and stood up, rubbing every bit of her body and lingerie possible against him. She paused, swaying her hips a little, grinding her ass against him, feeling how hard he was, and smiling at the groans that came from him. Angel nudged him towards the bed and had him lie on his back.

Wilson watched her crawl onto the bed, cat-like, over him, once more rubbing her body against him. The feel of her breasts in the lace as they started at his thighs made him moan her name. "Angel, my god you are so good at this," he panted. She just smiled in return, until she was fully against him, and he could feel the heat and dampness of her bikini against his groin. He grasped her tightly in his arms and kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue into her mouth over and over until she was panting.

Wilson unhooked her bra and gently flipped her to her back. With one hand he tossed her bra out of the way, the other slid off her panties. He decided to torture her a little by slowly drawing his hand up her legs, deep between her thighs, feeling how wet she was. Angel let out a cry of bliss; he quickly covered her full lips with his mouth again.

His hands softly massaged her breasts, bringing the nipples to a peak with his thumb and forefinger, and then covering each with his mouth, moving from one to the other. Angel was no longer in control, and he smiled at her gasps and whimpers. He surprised her by pulling her back on top, entranced by her heaving breasts. He thought perhaps he'd done too good of a job of tantalizing her when she could hold out no longer. Angel straddled him again, hitting her mark fast and hard. Wilson cried out, as her body began to take over, her hands on his chest, her eyes half-closed. She lowered her upper body against him, kissing his chest, whimpering with each thrust.

Their hands wandered over each other, mouths nuzzling earlobes and nipping collarbones, all the while, their bodies rocking and grinding together. Wilson could see a lusty haze in her eyes, swearing they'd changed color. "James, please make me come," she begged into his ear. He satisfied her, her body arching, hands gripping him, her orgasm turning her pleas into rapid moans and cries.

Angel's climax pushed Wilson over the brink, stroking him with her sex as she whimpered his name into his neck, gently nuzzling his earlobe with her tongue. They held each other, damp, breathless, exchanging kisses. She ran her fingers through his hair; he gently rolled next to her, resting his head between her breasts.

"Wow," Angel murmured, still breathless.

"Wow, indeed," James chuckled, hearing the sound of her heart pounding.

"So is this the part where I say, see you next week?" Angel tried to laugh it off but she couldn't help feeling sad.

Wilson picked his head up and looked at her. "No. I'm staying the night….unless you don't want me to," he said cautiously. "I'll even cook you breakfast."

A smile formed on her lips. "I can handle that kind of friendship."

**~FINIS~**


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